


Wind Tried to Sweep Me Away (but you really did)

by fractalgeometry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, M/M, Other, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalgeometry
Summary: Aziraphale glanced up again. “Your hair is tangled. Do you want me to fix it?”“I can just-”“I have a very nice hairbrush.”There was a pause.“Fine,”Crowley said, sounding rather less put out than he was clearly trying to.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 121





	Wind Tried to Sweep Me Away (but you really did)

**Author's Note:**

> Just another round of ineffable softness from me. Featuring banter, dramatic Crowley, and hair brushing, because I can.

The door banged open and a gust of wind blew across the shop, bringing with it a mildly disheveled demon. Aziraphale, whose default reaction to someone making a dramatic entrance was to ignore them, did exactly that. 

“Humans,” Crowley announced, stalking into the middle of the room, “are annoying.”

“They can be,” Aziraphale agreed.

“I don’t know why I put up with them.”

Aziraphale made a noncommittal  _ hmm _ ing noise and didn’t look up from his book. 

“Do you know what just happened to me?”

Aziraphale remained silent, knowing that Crowley would continue as it suited him. 

“I had some woman come up to me and start going on about ‘neighborhood watch’ and ‘unsafe driving’ and ‘children live here, you know’. Like I would  _ ever _ hit anyone!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth.

“That was _one time,_ don’t you dare even consider-”

Aziraphale closed his mouth.

“I see that little smile on your face. Do you think this is funny? Me, an ancient demon, cornered by a neighborhood watch lady!”

“A little bit, yes.”

“This is cruelty,” Crowley complained. He threw himself down on the armchair across from Aziraphale and slumped so low his legs were nearly dragging on the ground. 

“I’m sure she was only doing what she thought was best,” Aziraphale said primly.

“She just likes getting up in everyone’s business,” Crowley grumbled. “The kids’ll be fine, they have fast reflexes.”

Aziraphale did not mention that Crowley would like as not drive the Bentley through a wall before running over a child. It wouldn’t help matters.

“Ugh,” Crowley announced. He slid a little further out of the chair.

“You do seem to have escaped,” Aziraphale offered. 

_ “Eventually.” _

“Do I want to know what you said to her?”

“Probably not.” Crowley grinned suddenly. “The look on her face was something, though.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and went back to his book. 

Abandoned and ignored, Crowley slid out of his chair entirely and landed on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. “Ow, fuck.”

Aziraphale glanced up again. “Your hair is tangled.”

“I  _ noticed.” _

“It probably has something to do with being out in the wind without it tied back.”

“I was busy having a funk,” Crowley said, the picture of reason. “I couldn’t be expected to remember to keep my hair from getting tangled.”

Aziraphale eyed him. “Do you want me to fix it?”

“I can just-”

“I have a very nice hairbrush.”

There was a pause.

Then Crowley said,  _ “Fine,” _ sounding rather less put out than he was clearly trying to, and crossed the room to sit in front of Aziraphale.

Aziraphale set a bookmark in his place and put the book aside. Then he reached out and pulled Crowley close enough to lean against the chair between Aziraphale’s knees. Crowley settled in willingly, tucking his right foot under his left leg, which he left sticking out in front of them.

Aziraphale summoned the brush and gathered a handful of Crowley’s hair. He started at the end, brushing steadily higher until he hit the first real tangle. After a brief struggle with it, he paused.

“Would you like me to miracle some of the tangles, or do it all the human way?”

“Human way,” Crowley said. His head was listing slightly forward, making the lock of hair Aziraphale was holding tug a bit. 

Aziraphale kept his grip firm and began to painstakingly work through the tangles. A few minutes in, Crowley’s hand settled firmly around Aziraphale’s calf, as though anchoring himself to something.

“You did this on purpose,” Crowley said accusatively as Aziraphale was finishing the third set of tangles. He had propped a foot on the ground so he could rest his forehead on his knee, and Aziraphale was fairly certain his eyes were closed.

“Did what?” Aziraphale asked, selecting another handful of hair.

“The hair. You knew it would shut me up.” Crowley sounded vaguely grumbly, but his hand on Aziraphale’s leg didn’t loosen, nor did he lift his head.

“I hoped it would calm you down,” Aziraphale corrected. “And something needed to be done with your hair, anyhow. Do you want me to stop?"

“Don’t you dare,” Crowley growled. “I absolutely do not want you to stop. Get on with it.”

Aziraphale tugged on his handful of hair. “You might be polite to the person who’s holding onto your hair.”

Crowley made an unidentifiable noise and leaned closer to Aziraphale’s right leg. “I can do what I want.”

After a moment of deliberation, Aziraphale moved his left leg so that it nearly touched Crowley’s side, bracketing the demon. Then he returned his attention to the tangles.

Since Crowley seemed content to stay there all day, Aziraphale took his time with the job, working each tangle out with brush and fingers until he couldn’t find a single snag. Then he sat for another minute, running Crowley’s hair through his fingers, pressing his fingertips gently against the demon’s head, before finally dropping his hand to Crowley’s shoulder. 

“I’m finished,” he said softly.

Crowley exhaled, long and slow and deep, and turned his head, resting his forehead on Aziraphale’s thigh. “Guess I should get going, then.” He didn’t sound enthused.

“If you want to,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley didn’t move. After a minute Aziraphale touched his thumb to the demon’s cheek, a silent question. 

Crowley made a soft noise and turned to press his cheek more fully against Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale’s thumb slid over Crowley’s ear and settled on the demon’s neck. He quickly put aside the brush to free his second hand and placed it on Crowley’s other shoulder.

_ “Do _ you want to?”

Crowley shook his head. 

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s shoulder. “I could braid your hair, so it doesn’t get tangled again as soon as you leave.”

Crowley seemed to ponder for a minute. “Just a simple one?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Okay.”

Aziraphale didn’t pick up the brush right away. Instead he ran his hands through Crowley’s hair again, gathering it into smaller bundles and then releasing them, over and over. It was soothing, being so close to Crowley, being allowed to do this. Judging by the way Crowley seemed to somehow relax further, Aziraphale wasn’t the only one feeling that way. 

“Are you  _ trying _ to melt me into a puddle?” Crowley asked, somewhat hazily.

“Not exactly,” Aziraphale demurred. 

“Liar,” Crowley declared, and nudged his head back against Aziraphale’s hands.

Deciding it was time to change tacks, Aziraphale gathered Crowley’s hair into a single handful and picked up the brush, drawing it back across Crowley’s head over and over until each hair led smoothly to the bundle in Aziraphale’s hand. Then he divided it up and, slowly, began to plait the sections together.

He took his time, both out of a desire to do the job well and to stay right here for as long as he could. Crowley was still and quiet, his grip on Aziraphale’s leg somewhat slackened, although he gave no indication that he wanted to move.

Disappointingly, Crowley’s hair was not especially long compared to some, and even at his slow, meticulous pace, Aziraphale finished relatively quickly. Noticing that he had nothing to tie it off with, he balanced the end of the braid in one hand and snapped with the other. A black hair tie, faintly threaded with white, fell into his palm. He twisted it into place and let the braid fall to its own place trailing down Crowley’s neck, resting his now-free hands on Crowley’s shoulders.

After a minute Crowley said, “Done?”

“Your hair is braided, yes,” Aziraphale replied.

Crowley nodded.

Neither of them moved.

“Now I  _ really _ should go,” Crowley said finally.

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed reluctantly. “I’ve kept you long enough.”

“I didn’t exactly make it hard,” Crowley pointed out.

“No.” Aziraphale ran his thumb across Crowley’s shoulderblade. 

Crowley brought a hand up to cover one of Aziraphale’s, giving the angel’s fingers a quick caress. Then he pivoted and stood, giving Aziraphale a lopsided grin. “Do I look all organized now?”

Aziraphale considered him. “No,” he said. “You look like I fixed your hair after it got horribly tangled because you couldn’t be bothered to pull it back.”

Crowley glowered and tossed his head, sending the braid flying. “You’re biased. I’m leaving.”

“Quite,” Aziraphale agreed. “Drive carefully.”

“Don’t stay in here reading so long you wither away,” Crowley retorted. He gave Aziraphale a brief, genuine smile, then vanished out the door.

Aziraphale sat a while longer, going over the last hour in his head, adding to memory the feel of Crowley’s hair in his hands, the soft noises he made, the way he relaxed into the touch, that last smile that said so much. 

Only when Aziraphale was sure he had it all noted down did he again pick up his book.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! This one made me happy to write, so I hope it made you happy to read.


End file.
